


Tainted Love

by KlainebowsAndDramioneflies



Series: Twisted Kurt 'Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Modification, Cock & Ball Torture, Dark Kurt, Dehumanization, Kidnapping, Kurt is a very twisted and evil man okay?, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, do not take this one lightly, this is a very dark fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9815753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlainebowsAndDramioneflies/pseuds/KlainebowsAndDramioneflies
Summary: Semi-canon compliant up to The Break Up, though some differences occur. There are many secrets that Kurt Hummel has kept from every person in his life. He's always had a certain darkness inside. A certain disconnect between himself and other living things. Anti-social personality disorder, perhaps? Ever since his mother died, Kurt lost the empathy he once had, and it only got worse when he dealt with bullying and fake friends. The world didn't care about him, so why should he care about the world? The only people he ever truly cared about were his father and Blaine Anderson. So when Blaine cheated on him, when he stomped on Kurt's heart like it didn't even matter at all, Kurt did what seemed the natural thing to do. He took what he thought was rightfully his. And since Blaine didn't know how to function with freedom, Kurt would do his best to strip that from him completely.





	1. The Love We Share

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Dark and Twisted Kurt, De-humanizing of character(s), past infidelity, explicit non-con, graphic violence, torture, kidnapping, abuse, body modification (forced), cruel and unusual punishment, mention of past actions of a similar nature

It was so hard for Blaine to function with his mind full of such negative thoughts. Sometimes he just felt like a zombie, walking aimlessly through life each day, day after day, never moving on, never getting over it. Just full of apathy and regret. Regret. That was such a prominent word in Blaine's vocabulary now. God, how he regretted what he did. Why had he even done it at all? It wasn't like sex with Eli was even good. Jesus. He just wanted Kurt back.

 

He didn't know how to live without Kurt in his life. He'd just... He'd wanted someone like Kurt for so long. He'd waited for that perfect man, dreamed about him, wished and hoped and prayed to whatever deity might exist... And then he found Kurt, back in those safe halls of Dalton Academy. He'd found his missing piece, and what had he done?

 

He ruined it.

 

Blaine felt so damn stupid. He was a fool, and he deserved to hurt like he did. He deserved worse than what he felt right now. Honestly, Blaine deserved more than the cold nothingness he got from Kurt. He didn't even deserve simple ignorance- he should be slapped. Screamed at. Told he was nothing and then made to see it. Kurt should be throwing it in his face that he's moved on. Oh, God, what would he do if Kurt really has moved on?

 

A sob choked its way out of Blaine's chest as the song played on in the background, filling his room with the creepy, lingering notes...  _"Once I ran to you, now I'll run from you, this tainted love you've given, I give you all a boy could give you, take my tears and that's not nearly all!"_  There was a beep from his security system, which his parents insisted on arming when they were away on business trips, but Blaine hardly noticed or cared. He hadn't even set the alarm- it was just the beep saying 'hey, you opened a door, dumbass,' but he hadn't opened a door, so the stupid thing must be glitching.

 

Blaine really didn't care to find out if the family cat had figured out how to open the back door and escape or if the front hadn't latched when he got home from school. He didn't really care about much of anything anymore, and that was the problem. Once he'd fucked up with Kurt, once he'd destroyed everything he'd always wanted, he had... well, nothing. No will to keep going.

 

Maybe he should lay off the depressing music and actually eat some dinner or something... take a little more care of himself... But he just... couldn't. He just didn't have the will. So, Blaine lay on his bed, staring unseeing at the ceiling, wasting away. He was barely eating anymore, hardly talked, never sang. He just... existed. And he didn't even want to do that. He just lacked the courage to kill himself, if he really thought about it.

 

"You're pathetic, Blaine Anderson," he growled at himself, unused voice sounding like sandpaper over a pile of rusty nails.

 

He was shocked when another voice, a familiar voice, answered him. "I would have to agree."

 

Sitting up, Blaine gaped at the man standing before him, virtually between his knees where they were spread on the edge of the bed. He'd been lying there across the shorter part of the bed, not at all concerned with his own comfort. It was weird to jerk up and find himself so close to the ex who he missed so much, who he regretted losing so badly.

 

"Kurt..." he croaked, eyes clouding over as he stared up at the boy from his dreams. God, he loved that man. He loved him so much, he wanted to latch onto him and never let go. "Oh, Kurt..." But why was Kurt here? He was supposed to be in New York. He wasn't supposed to be in Ohio now... He didn't come to Ohio to visit his boyfriend anymore, because Blaine wasn't his boyfriend anymore. Because Blaine cheated. Because Blaine was stupid. So, so stupid.

 

"Oh, God, Kurt..." Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as Blaine peered up at the man he loved, the man he'd hurt. "God. I'm so stupid. I'm so  _sorry_ , God, Kurt... Please. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry... so..."

 

He blubbered. head falling as he cried harder, and Kurt's hand found its way to his hair, messy and broken free from his gel due to all the times he'd pulled at it in anguish just since he got home from school. "Shh," Kurt soothed, though the smile on his face, if Blaine could only see it, was anything but soothing. "Hush now, pet. It'll all be okay. I'll make it all better..."

 

Then, Blaine felt a prick of pain at his neck, and as he tried to stop hyperventilating and just  _breathe_  and figure out what was going on, his vision started narrowing. The edges were blurring, then they were going black, then the floor wasn't there anymore and Kurt's voice was slurred in his ears, and the world went dark and quiet.


	2. I've Got to Run Away

Groggy awareness started filling Blaine's brain as he blinked unseeing eyes. It felt like he'd been hit by a freight train going about ninety miles an hour, and his voice wouldn't work, no matter how hard he tried to speak. He just wanted to ask if anyone was there. He just wanted to know he wasn't alone. He was so scared. Where was he? What happened? Oh, God. Why couldn't he feel his fingers, his throat? Why couldn't he see?

 

The blackness faded slowly into blurry shapes and light that hurt his eyes. The only thing he could think was  _'thank God I'm not blind'_  but even that thought was short-lived, as memories started slowly taking shape in his fuzzy mind.

 

Kurt. Kurt had come back to Ohio. He'd sneaked into Blaine's house. He'd told him it would be okay! Kurt promised to make it all better! And then the pain, like a bee sting in his neck. The woozy feeling in his body. Then darkness, unconsciousness. Nothing.

 

Oh, God. Kurt had drugged him. Kurt, his beautiful, fantasy boyfriend brought to life. The wonderful human being he loved. Kurt had drugged him and kidnapped him and... where the hell was he? Blaine was starting to panic, wheezing, soundless but for the rattle of air trying desperately to make it in and out of his lungs. Oh, God. What was he going to do? And why did he keep thinking in terms of a God he never believed in? Did he suddenly think that figment of a deity could help him now that he was in such a strange and terrible situation?

 

Blaine tried to shift about, but found it rather difficult as his body wasn't fully aware just yet. Whatever Kurt had dosed him with was strong. His vision was still cloudy, though he could see much better than he had been able to when it first cleared for him.

 

Finding the lack of movement in his fingers unnerving, Blaine lifted them to his face, only to gasp in horror. They were all folded and taped, electrical tape binding the tip up to the first knuckle to the base, not allowing any movement but that which a dog had with its paw pads. His thumbs were utterly useless, too. Tucked up under his hands as if to give his palms more surface or padding, covered completely as if they didn't exist. Oh,  _God_.

 

Blaine lifted his right hand to his face and tried to use his teeth to pull on the tape, but he was shaking so badly he couldn't even get a grip. He was in a pure panic and he couldn't get anything done. Nothing was working like it was supposed to and he was too scared to think straight and he looked around in such a rush of panic and adrenaline that all he could focus on was a door and  _escape_  and he ran!

 

He ran, then he choked, then he fell backwards, gasping and coughing and scrambling to get back, back, back far enough to breathe again.

 

Raising those useless hands to his throat, Blaine felt a thick strap of leather bound around his neck, he could feel a heavy lock knock against his hand as he ran the useless stump of taped up fingers along the back of the collar, running into an equally heavy and thick metal chain that kept him tethered somewhere in the room. He was trapped. Like a dog. On a leash. Oh,  _God_.

 

If his throat wasn't numb and would actually make a sound, Blaine would have whimpered. Hell, he would have cried if he could have. As it was, Blaine was lying there with his back against what seemed to be a bed, but he was too shaken to even turn and look. His mind was a whirlwind of panic and confusion, and his fear was practically radiating from his eyes.

 

"Ha. Oh, I do love this part. Like a little rabbit caught in a noose, trying to figure out what's going on, how to get free. But you're never getting free, little bunny. Oh, no, pet," Kurt's voice was cruel and dark, even and calculating as he sat at his dining table and watched Blaine struggle. "You see, you've always been mine. But then you forgot. And that, my darling, is unforgiveable."

 

It was the same thing Blaine had been telling himself, but coming from Kurt... Blaine really wasn't sure if he agreed anymore. He wanted to be forgiven. He wanted to be forgotten. He'd loved Kurt so much, but this man... This wasn't Kurt! This couldn't be the boy he'd met on that staircase years ago. This couldn't be the same man he'd shyly explored sex with. No, this couldn't be his Kurt!

 

"Now, since you're still feeling groggy and doubtless have a plethora of questions, I think I'll go ahead and explain things to you, hmm?" Kurt said simply, his eyes flashing in amusement as Blaine continued to work his brain over, trying to figure out a way out of all this and constantly coming up dry. "First, you probably want to know where you are. Well, darling. You've finally made it to the city of our dreams. New York. That's right, pet. We're living together in the Big Apple just like we always talked about. Of course, you aren't going to see much of the place. Actually, you won't see it at all. But that's beside the point...

 

"You see, Blaine," it was the first time Kurt used his name, and it sounded wrong. This wasn't the Kurt that Blaine knew. This wasn't the same man. Not at all. "You messed it all up. You really did, sweetie. You were supposed to be my good little boy forever, but you just couldn't do that. You had to be like everyone else. But I won't have that. No," He smiled that twisted smile and got up from the chair, stalking over toward the cowering boy on the floor and settling on the bed where he could place his hand atop Blaine's mussed curls, tangling his fingers in the knots of gel and dirt from travel and lack of bathing over... Blaine had no idea how many hours he'd been out.

 

He shivered at the touches, and his whole body shook. Kurt laughed. "All my life there have only been three people who were ever any different from the rest of the world. My mother, who was stolen from me so unfairly. My father, who toes the line with that idiot Finn trying to steal his time and attention like he does. And then there was you," Kurt caught his finger on a particularly large knot and pulled, making Blaine cry silently out, bound fingers spasming with the need to flex, to pull the man's hand away. To do something.

 

"You were perfect, Blaine. You were my dream made into reality, and I was such a happy boy. You loved me and you kept me safe, even though I never was the one needing saving. But you couldn't know that. No one ever knew that. No one else ever will know, either. No, everyone saw the little gay boy who was picked on, tormented, who finally found a friend and a lover. And I was  _happy_ , Blaine, so happy." He pulled Blaine's hair so that he had no choice but to bend his head back and stare up at Kurt, locking eyes with the man he now knew was crazy. "And then you fucked it all up."

 

The evil in Kurt's gaze was terrifying. Blaine was so scared. He couldn't think. He couldn't do. He could only sit there as tears streamed down his cheeks and stare into the eyes of a mad man. A mad man he once loved so much he'd have given his life for him. Oh, God. What was going to happen to him? Blaine had a feeling he really did not want to know.

 

Kurt smiled again and it made Blaine's stomach churn. "You were meant to be mine, Blaine. Forever. And since you weren't able to remember that, I'm going to make sure you don't have to. Remember that. It will just be a given. Make things easy for my pet. So, he doesn't break the rules and make his Kurt upset. How does that sound?"

 

Blaine let out a soundless whimper again, and Kurt smiled. Again. His laugh was like an afterthought. Just soft and added on at the end. Blaine hated it. "And don't you worry about search parties or police, either. I left a little note for everyone back home. Did you know I can perfectly produce your penmanship? Oh, it's a convenient skill, I must say..." Blaine wanted to scream. He wanted to hit the man he once adored so greatly. How could he do this?

 

"It isn't like it's hard to believe. After all, you were so depressed. I was shocked when I picked you up. You barely weigh anything close to what you used to. What you should. Have you been starving yourself? You'd have to be to lose that much in so little time..." Kurt studied him, then, and Blaine blushed and cursed himself for it. "So, sad, depressed, ever-dramatic Blaine left a note about how horrible he was, how no one loved him anyway so they shouldn't go looking. How he just couldn't handle the pain or regret or guilt any longer. How he was sorry, but everyone was better off without him. That's right, baby. You left a suicide note and ran away to off yourself. Or at least, that's what everyone will think. It isn't like you haven't been acting the part lately, hmm?"

 

Blaine was going to be sick. He was going to throw up. He couldn't even see any more for the tears in his eyes, and he was going to throw up...

 

"I'm sure Sam at least will be trying to start a search, calling the cops... but nobody outside of family is allowed to report a minor missing. And your neglectful parents aren't due home for, what? A month at least. Maybe longer..." Kurt might have still been talking, but Blaine didn't hear him. All the blood was rushing in his ears as he heaved, throwing up bile on the floor in front of him. He wasn't even sure when Kurt had let his hair go, but he was glad he did, or else he'd probably be choking on the puke right now, drowning in his own vomit.

 

Maybe he wished Kurt would have kept a hold on his hair instead. Maybe he wished he could actually die. He was pretty sure he was about to experience a whole new hell that he'd never even imagined, and he was completely terrified.

 

"Oh, well  _that_  simply won't do..." Kurt muttered, looking at the bile in disgust while Blaine's entire body shook in fear and revulsion. "Good pets do not get sick all over my nice clean floor." Kurt stood up and the gleam in his eyes made Blaine weak. He looked murderous, but he was smiling, and Blaine's blood ran cold. He felt a warmth in his pants and knew that he'd just gotten so scared that he'd actually wet himself. Kurt was not going to be happy about that.

 

"Tsk, tsk, Blaine..." Kurt drawled, pacing such that his boot heels clicked on the floor. Blaine couldn't breathe. He could see the fury raging in those stormy blue-green-grey eyes and he just couldn't  _breathe_  anymore. Kurt was going to do something horrible, he just knew it, and he didn't want to die. Blaine didn't want to die!

 

He opened his mouth and tried to beg. "Please," he tried to plead, but his throat still felt numb and his words wouldn't work, and he still couldn't breathe, and Blaine was panicking so badly. The room was getting fuzzier and Kurt was getting closer, and his breath caught like a baseball in his throat and he just couldn't get it to his lungs. And with no oxygen reaching his brain, Blaine passed out.


	3. I've Got to Get Away

Blaine woke and the first thing he noticed was the cold. He was covered in goosebumps- and nothing else. Apparently soiling his pants had meant that he didn't get to have pants anymore, and the shirt was stripped from him for good measure. At least, those were his assumptions as he lay on his side and shivered, wondering how cheating had earned him such punishment as being held prisoner, assumed dead by his friends and family.

 

He was slowly working himself up again, and if he'd learned anything so far in his time as a kidnap victim it was that he shouldn't get worked up. It only led to complete panic and passing out. The thought of what he might wake up to next had Blaine seriously wanting to avoid passing out again.

 

Thoughts kept swimming through his mind about  _escape_  and  _freedom_  and how he'd be doomed if he didn't work to find a way out of this. There was no way Kurt was letting him go, so Blaine either had to admit defeat and accept his life, stuck in this loft with no one and nothing but the twisted version of the man he used to love, or he had to fight. Blaine was nothing if not a fighter- just ask Cooper.

 

So, he focused. He studied his surroundings, noted how Kurt behaved, and settled in for a few days of establishing 'normalcy' in his new situation. Blaine knew that if he could make Kurt more comfortable, then he'd have more chance of escape. He had no idea what the man intended for him overall, but he knew that he needed to get past the initial treatment to know exactly what he was dealing with.

 

Blaine had been right in his thinking, because as he stopped resisting so hard, he stopped being so restrained. Kurt didn't inject him with the throat-numbing drugs, and Blaine slowly felt his vocal abilities returning, though he didn't dare use them unless he couldn't help it. He was clipped to a leash instead of the chain, led around the large room that served as Kurt's home. Of course, he was made to crawl on hands and knees "like a good pet," but Blaine only fought for a moment. He only resisted until Kurt slapped his bare ass with a belt, then yelped and crawled as expected.

 

Blaine was given food and water. He was made to use the bathroom on newspaper like a puppy in potty training. At night, he cried as silently as he could manage, curled on the floor near Kurt's bed. He just had to keep thinking that soon, soon he'd make his move. And it wasn't so bad. He could do this. He could survive.

 

But oh, how wrong Blaine had been.

 

"Now that you aren't so afraid and you're not wasting away anymore," Kurt started one morning, and Blaine felt his heart clench in his chest. That didn't sound like a good start to the day. No, not at all. He had a feeling that was the sign he'd needed to get him moving- to have him trying to escape.

 

Kurt, oblivious to Blaine's wandering mind, kept speaking. "I thought it was about time we try some things..." he trailed, striding to the coffee table and leafing through a decent-sized box. Blaine's heart raced. This was his chance! The leash attached to his collar hung limply from his neck, abandoned on the floor. He was free to roam, unnoticed for the time being. If he could just make his move and get out before he was noticed... And his voice worked right now, too. He could get out and then scream! He'd have to be helped by someone, right?

 

At least someone would call the cops on a naked, collared man screaming in the halls of a New York apartment building, right?

 

With a clear goal in mind, Blaine sprang into action. He popped up to his feet- a strange sensation as he had spent days on his knees- and bolted for the door. He heard Kurt hiss his disapproval, heard the box tip over on the coffee table in Kurt's haste to come after him. Blaine knew he was bound to be caught, but he had to keep going. He had to try. He had to run, run, run!

 

So, he kept trying, fumbling with his stumps of fingers on the door latch, trying to tug as his hands just slid uselessly off the lever, not capable of switching the lock, let alone pulling the rolling door. He couldn't do it. Even if he had all the time in the world, Blaine couldn't set himself free. And he didn't have all the time in the world. In fact, he didn't have any more time at all.

 

One moment, Blaine was fumbling with the door, pointlessly trying and failing to make any progress, and the next his entire world was  _pain_. It was excruciating. He'd never felt anything like it, even when he'd been beaten to high hell at that Sadie Hawkins dance back before his Dalton days...

 

His heels were on fire. He fell to the floor in a heap of useless mass. Everything he knew was wiped out of his mind and replaced by pure  _pain_. "ARGH!" he screamed, a guttural, beastly noise that didn't even sound so much like a human hurting but more like an animal in utter anguish. Some sort of muzzle was quickly shoved over his mouth, muffling the sound, but it didn't matter to Blaine. He kept screaming. He kept sobbing and screaming and crying and praying for the pain to stop. Please, God, just make it  _stop_.

 

"Good pets stay on the ground like they're meant to do, Blaine," Kurt said simply as Blaine gulped and wheezed, trying to catch his breath before he ended up passing out again. He really didn't want to pass out again. Oh, God, he didn't want to pass out. "Good pets don't stand up and run. Good pets don't try to open doors. Good pets  _know their place_ , Blaine."

 

Blaine tried to move, then, and pain coursed through his legs and feet. It pulsed from his heels in each direction, and he whined, he sniffled, he cried, but he didn't scream. He knew he'd be hurt more if he kept screaming, so he got a handle on it and refused to revert to the mess he'd been when Kurt first did whatever he'd done to cause his anguish. He looked down, and he couldn't help it. Blaine screamed again.

 

The muzzle muffled his wails, but the horror was clear. It seemed to delight Kurt, who smiled and laughed, tugging Blaine's covered chin so that the man had to look up at him as he explained. "You don't need those silly tendons anymore, baby. Those are for walking, and good pets don't walk. You crawl."

 

The Achilles tendons on both his ankles had been snipped. They'd been precise cuts, probably with sewing scissors, or maybe even surgical devices. Blaine didn't know, but he did know he wasn't bleeding too badly, and the tendons were thoroughly clipped. He locked eyes with his captor and whimpered, tears slipping down his cheeks.

 

"Now, let's get those wrapped so you don't make more of a mess on my floor, hmm?" Kurt cooed at him, and Blaine whined once more. He didn't want this monster he'd once loved touching him. God, he just wanted out. He didn't want anything to do with Kurt. He hated the man. Despised him.

 

Kurt's hands were deceptively gentle as he wrapped gauze around Blaine's ankles, trailing it up to mid-calf and down over his feet. Once there were thick layers of gauze, he followed that with Ace bandages. The thicker bandages forced his feet out straight so that his wounds wouldn't heal properly. Blaine knew Kurt was doing this on purpose. He was making it so that his 'pet' wouldn't be able to defy him again. Blaine would never know what walking, standing like a human felt like again. He sobbed silently into the muzzle.

 

"There. All better. Now, we can do as I was saying and try some new things!" It seemed that while Blaine had spaced out over the way his legs were wrapped, Kurt had cleaned up the blood from the floor and put away whatever devices he'd used in his torture. Now, the man jauntily made his way to the coffee table, righting the box and riffling through the contents.

 

Bitter fear gripped Blaine's heart as he saw a somewhat-familiar-looking object, but with a furry tail attached to it. The tail reminded Blaine of something Kurt used to wear in High School, clipped to his belt loop. It was similar to a wolf's tail, though Blaine supposed it could be that of a dog just as easily. He shivered when he studied the plug it was attached to.

 

They'd talked about these things. Toys. Blaine had always thought Kurt was too shy about sex to even broach the subject, but they had. Kurt played the role of the blushing virgin even after they'd gone all the way. It was a fact that Blaine had actually used a vibrator on his boyfriend a fair few times, and he'd even worn a plug, like the one in Kurt's hand, to school once just after Kurt left for New York. To prove his love and devotion. He'd even texted Kurt a picture.

 

"I know it's not all that large, but I think it may take some time to work up to more, don't you?" Kurt asked, as if he was talking about something completely normal. As if he wasn't referring to shoving a butt plug with a tail attached to it into his ex-boyfriend turned kidnap victim. Blaine blinked at him, trying to understand exactly what all was going to happen to him. "Of course, there will eventually be more than just this, but... you've already put us through so much today. I think this will be just enough. For now."

 

Kurt approached him with that sadistic smile in place, and Blaine couldn't hold back a whimper of fear. He didn't want this monster anywhere near him, let alone touching him in what would have been an intimate way. The plug was bigger than what Blaine had previously played with, though smaller than Kurt's cock, which meant Blaine knew he could take it- even if he felt a pang of confusion and sadness at the thought of his ex-lover's manhood. He couldn't think badly of the times he and Kurt had been together, even as he looked at this demented version of that once-innocent boy.

 

There was a small tube of lube in Kurt's hand, but Blaine still had a sinking feeling in his gut as the man approached and he was unable to do anything about it. He was still radiating pain, and he was sure he would barely be able to slide along the floor for the coming days until his ankles started to heal- albeit in a distorted version of human legs.

 

"Now, I know you can take this," Kurt commented, side-stepping so that he could hover behind Blaine. Not having Kurt in his line of sight made Blaine shake with nerves. "I'm just using a bit of lube so it can slip right into place..." It seemed like something to do for himself, really. Kurt wouldn't have to strain to get the device in as much this way. Blaine would still feel it all, though. He could still tear if Kurt pushed it in too fast- especially as the natural resistance would be lessened by that lube. It was a good thing and a terrible thing at once, and Blaine wasn't sure whether to be thankful for it or not.

 

He didn't have much more time to think on the matter, however, as his cheeks were suddenly held open with deft fingers, while a pointed, yet still-blunt tip pushed at his completely unprepared hole. Blaine told himself to relax- that it made everything better if he could just relax, bear down on the toy, make himself take it. But, the thing was, he wasn't aroused in any way. He wasn't prepared to take the toy and his body didn't  _want_  to take it. It was impossible to relax after the trauma he'd just been through, and with the trauma he was sure this was about to become.

 

Despite his body's resistance, Blaine still felt the plug being pushed further into him. A frustrated grunt sounded from above and behind him, and suddenly the force of the toy was doubled, and it was moving much too fast into him. He screamed- again muffled by the muzzle so that it sounded more like an overdone whine. "Now don't be a baby," Kurt growled, giving the plug another hefty shove and making Blaine feel like he was being ripped apart. "You've taken bigger than this before."

 

Blaine wanted to argue. To tell Kurt that he'd only taken more when he was properly prepped- stretched and horny, relaxed and ready for it- but all he could do was close his eyes tight and grit his teeth and try not to make too much noise as the man pushed the plug in the rest of the way, the thickest part popping into Blaine with a sickening  _squelch_  as lube puddled around the base- the runoff from Kurt moving so quickly, only having used it to help the toy glide in rather than doing anything really for Blaine's experience.

 

"There we are!" Kurt exclaimed, wiping off the area with a frigid wet-wipe before dropping the tail so that it brushed against Blaine's ass and thighs. "Now you're looking more like a proper puppy, aren't you, pet?"

 

As if to fit his new character, Blaine let out a pitiful whine that turned to a whimper. Kurt strode out before him again so that he could look down on the pitiful creature, and that only made Blaine's chest ache harder. His heart hurt. He couldn't believe this person who he had loved so much was now hurting him in this way.

 

Kurt's fingers curled in Blaine's loose curls, his typical gel long gone from however many times Kurt had cleaned him while Blaine was basically comatose. He felt Kurt's immaculately groomed nails scratching against his scalp, and it felt good despite the situation. Blaine hated himself for finding comfort in anything this monster could do to him, for him, but he just couldn't help it.

 

And really, Blaine couldn't blame himself much for finding some small comfort still in Kurt. After all, before this abduction, before he saw just what Kurt was capable of, especially against Blaine himself... Back when things were good and they were in love, Blaine would have given absolutely  _anything_  to be stuck, seemingly forever, in a private loft with Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.


	4. Take My Tears and that's Not Nearly All

Every day Blaine woke to a new torture, or at least it seemed that way. Kurt quickly replaced the relatively small plug with a larger one, moving up more than a single size each time so that even with the previous plug's stretch, Blaine still felt like his ass was being torn apart every time Kurt upgraded his tail.

 

The only time Blaine was unplugged was when he had to do his business or Kurt decided to bathe him. The man-turned-dog quickly learned that he wasn't supposed to tell Kurt when he needed to go, but instead he was expected to approach the proper newspaper-lined area and Kurt would understand. Of course, half the time he was teased about his needs, humiliated and debased to a point of self-loathing. Blaine just wanted to use a toilet like a normal person- yet, he knew he wouldn't even be able to do that, since his hands were ruined and he wouldn't be able to even hoist himself up onto the toilet in the first place with his legs as they were.

 

Some positive outcomes had arisen. Kurt only used the numbing injections on his vocal chords when Blaine was about to experience something extreme for the first time. He also hadn't done anything... horrible, at least by comparison to his previous actions. Blaine was glad to not have seen another medical instrument since the incident with his ankles.

 

The bad parts were plenty, though. The muzzle came out quite often, especially if Blaine spoke too much. He would find himself unable to do anything but make pathetic muffled noises, much to Kurt's delight, until the man decided he had learned his lesson or until Blaine needed to eat something- or, more often than not, until Blaine woke up and the muzzle was gone, removed sometime in the night.

 

Blaine also found himself forced into a cage every couple of evenings. It was growing more regular, and more often, as well. He was terrified that he'd soon find himself forced to sleep in the small cage every night, and maybe even be locked in it during the days as well. It was not a pleasant thought, especially since Blaine was slightly claustrophobic.

 

He'd had his vocal chords numbed when Kurt examined his hands and fingers. That had been painful, though not as much as the tendon cutting. The man unwrapped the tape and tugged at Blaine's fingers, trying to stretch them out, but they were reluctant to move and it  _hurt_. It hurt worse when Kurt actually got something to shift, but that seemed to be what he was looking for- what he was trying to make not happen anymore.

 

Blaine almost expected Kurt to simply remove the furthest two joints of his fingers instead of dealing with rolling and taping them, but he figured Kurt wasn't actually a doctor, and wouldn't risk full on amputation. It was odd, because sometimes Kurt would mutter to himself and Blaine heard it through his whimpers and attempts to keep breathing, to not pass out.

 

 _"No, no, it's too soon for them to calcify. It didn't happen this early."_  Or he'd be looking Blaine over and smiled.  _"Yes, slower is better. Definitely better. Doing so well, and so little damage. So much better..."_

 

There was no way for Blaine to even attempt to keep track of time, especially since Kurt used black-out curtains on his windows. Blaine didn't even know if he was sleeping at night, or if he was still on a regular schedule of wake and sleep in the first place. All he knew, was that it felt like a long time before Kurt gave him that familiar, devious look and grasped the leash tightly in his hands. Something bad was about to happen.

 

"I think you're ready for more, pet," Kurt commented with a strange smile on his face. Blaine wondered briefly if he was just talking about a larger plug, which seemed obscene to even imagine, but Blaine was sure Kurt probably intended to stretch him as wide as humanly possible- if only for his own entertainment. His doubts about this day being so simple were made reality as Kurt tugged him to the low coffee table in the living area, which he'd covered in a plastic-lined table cloth. It was something that would stop spills during a meal- which meant Kurt expected some kind of liquid, some kind of mess.

 

Blaine swallowed thickly, but he couldn't even think of a single thing to say before Kurt slid the familiar needle into his throat and numbed his vocal chords. This was definitely not going to be fun, and Blaine was scared.

 

Hands shoved Blaine face-down on the table, and he felt Kurt slide up behind him. Blaine could hear the loosening of a belt, then the way Kurt fumbled with his skin-tight pants, and he knew one thing that was going to happen. "I numbed you early because I don't want to hear anything from you for this, pet. You see, you  _owe me_  this. Cheaters don't get to participate. They just have to be good little whores and  _take it_." He pulled the plug out and tossed it aside, shoving into Blaine without anything more than the little bit of lube left in him from the toy. Kurt was a little thicker than the plug, though not much, but he was definitely much longer, and Blaine wasn't used to anything penetrating him further than the plugs anymore.

 

He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out, and he simply lay against the table, whole body rocking as Kurt pounded roughly into him. Blaine's entire body shivered and convulsed as Kurt abused his prostate, and Blaine thought he might soon come from the torture.

 

The thought of coming from Kurt raping him made Blaine sick to his stomach, but he didn't have to worry for long, as Kurt reached around him and clamped his fist around the base of Blaine's rigid cock, squeezing so hard Blaine saw spots. Kurt slammed home once more and exploded inside Blaine, buried deep in his ass and filling him up with spunk, as unwanted as it was for Blaine.

 

"Ah," Kurt sighed, finally relaxing his hand as he slid away from the abused boy beneath him. "Such a good little slut for me," he purred, patting Blaine's ass almost lovingly. "But pets don't get to come. We need to fix it so that I don't have to stop it from happening next time, I think."

 

Blaine thought his ass, sore as it was, might get a small break, but instead was rewarded with a slightly larger plug being swiftly shoved inside him while he was barely paying attention. He gasped, the air making a whistling sound as it passed through his mouth and teeth, and Kurt chuckled. "Can't have any of that leaking out, now can we? And you're so good and stretched. I bet you hardly felt that at all."

 

There was an evil glint in Kurt's eyes that told Blaine he knew that the abused boy had definitely felt every bit of the large plug being forced inside his body- no warning or ease, simply thrust in all the way to the base whether Blaine's body was ready or not. Kurt just tapped the base, where no tail currently hung, and flipped Blaine over as if he weighed nothing.

 

"Now, we'll work on that problematic little cock of yours, and then I have a couple more ideas to explore..." Kurt mumbled, the familiar box that Blaine had grown to hate present at his side. "Don't want to do too much, though. Didn't work so well last time..."

 

Blaine had no idea what 'last time' Kurt was talking about, but he silently whimpered all the same. A gleam of steel caught his eye before the device was lowered to his groin area and Blaine couldn't properly see it anymore. He hated seeing Kurt's hands on his body, especially in what once would have been an intimate way, so he either looked away or closed his eyes whenever such a situation occurred.

 

This time, Blaine couldn't keep his eyes closed, as he soon felt his dick being shoved into some small steel contraption, forced to shrink down against its will- smaller than it naturally hung. Something cold- it felt much the same as the steel around his dick, only just one ring- was clamped around the base of his balls, then, and more fiddling followed until a click signaled that all was done. Blaine was sure he'd mentally checked out for some of the time, but now... Now he could feel something snug around his shrunken cock and clamped tightly about the base of his balls. He vaguely wondered if it was tight enough to cut off circulation to them- if he was going to be sterilized the way livestock often was- but relaxed as he realized he could still feel the light touch of Kurt stroking his balls.

 

Of course, it soon registered that Kurt was  _stroking his balls_  and Blaine jumped, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with how  _loving_  that gesture might once have been.

 

Bracing himself mentally, Blaine looked down to see what Kurt had done to him. What he saw shocked him, though not as much as it once might have. When he'd been shopping online for toys and lube and such things, he'd seen some bondage gear. So, while it was odd to see on himself, it wasn't completely odd for Blaine to see a cock cage.

 

The cage was  _tiny_  and Blaine swallowed thickly as he stared at it.

 

"Pretty, isn't it, pet?" Kurt pretty much cooed at him while Blaine sagged against the table in defeat. "No way you'll be coming with that on. Just as it should be."

 

Kurt's eyes were wide and wicked as he looked upon Blaine, and the younger man felt a chill crawl up his spine. He didn't know what else Kurt had planned, but he was positive he wouldn't like it.

 

"Now, I know you're wearing my collar, but... that's simply not enough. You see, what got you into trouble in the first place, was that without clothing nobody knew who you belonged to." He was musing aloud, perhaps trying to teach Blaine some sort of lesson, but Blaine was stuck focused on the thin, sharp, and deadly looking blade Kurt held. It might have been a scalpel or an x-acto knife, but he really wasn't sure. All he knew was that it gleamed when it caught the light, and it terrified him. "So, I think you need some markings to show everyone that you are an owned whore. Wouldn't you agree, pet?"

 

Blaine was under no delusion that he'd ever leave this loft. He knew Kurt wouldn't allow him out of the prison now that he'd been there, now that there was no hope of him returning back in Ohio... But Kurt spoke as if he might someday be outdoors again, around other people, and a small part of Blaine's heart ached for that to be true.

 

Words floated around him, but Blaine only vaguely paid attention. It was better for him if he didn't know all the thoughts that went through his demented ex's mind, anyway. "I had considered branding, but... it's so easy to twitch and mess it up as it's being done. And I want this to be  _perfect_ ," Kurt smiled coldly and it reached his eyes, making them sparkle above Blaine. "You see, I do have a flair for artistic penmanship after all, and what is a knife but a different type of pen if you use it correctly?"

 

Honey-colored eyes opened wide as Kurt lowered his arm to hold Blaine still, crawling onto him to hold his lower body in place. The hand with the knife slowly made its way toward his abdomen, hovering over his left hip, and suddenly a hot prickling pain shot through his body from the point of contact. It was like slicing your foot on glass, or slipping with a paring knife in your hand, but worse. Worse, because Blaine couldn't react- couldn't pull away- and Kurt just kept slicing.

 

Kurt's tongue was stuck between his lips in determination as he concentrated on what he did, while Blaine's eyes rolled in his head and his body tried to convulse to no avail. He wanted so desperately to get away from the sharp pain in his hip, he hated it! But he couldn't, he was trapped here, and he slowly became numb to the torture until all he could do was wish for an end.

 

By the time Kurt had finished with him, Blaine had a tag on his hip and one on his chest opposite his heart. His hip read "Property of K. E. H." while his chest proclaimed that "This Whore Belongs to Kurt Hummel." It had taken a lot time for Kurt to get the cuts to look exactly how he wanted them, and blood soiled the cloth beneath Blaine.

 

"We'll be cleaning those often. Don't want them scabbing up too early or getting infected, do we?" Kurt commented as he cleaned the fresh cuts with something that burned badly enough to have Blaine screaming- his voice only just barely coming back enough to make a soft, high-pitched sound- as he jerked on the table. "Get down so I can put your tail on, now, pet."

 

Swallowing hard and panting, Blaine got off the table as gracefully as he could with no use of his fingers or thumbs, and legs that only really functioned at the knees. He flopped to the floor and whimpered pathetically, tears falling from his eyes, face well-streaked with the salty remnants of his torture, his pain. This pain that had become his normal.

 

"Good boy, Blaine," Kurt used his name and it was such a rare thing. Blaine looked forward to it in some ways, because it meant he still had one. He still had an identity. He was still  _Blaine_. "Time for some dinner and then you get to spend some time in your cage."

 

From then on, Blaine was tortured with cleanings of his cuts- cleanings that always seemed to scrub too harshly and use abrasive soaps and oils... He curled up in the cage most nights only to feel the wounds sticking to his thigh, his arm, unable to even try to heal as he kept irritating them daily. It seemed they  _were_  healing- but only slightly and from the inside, building up the scars that Kurt desired.

 

Blaine had been tortured, marked as property, a whore at that, and he was still being tortured anew every day. He wasn't sure how he could live through so much pain, yet there was no other choice for him. Even that had been taken from him. Without the use of his hands, without being able to even move when Kurt couldn't see him, Blaine couldn't even figure out a way to end it all.

 


	5. Sorry I Don't Pray That Way

"You see, pet, I have my reasons," Kurt explained as he sat beside Blaine's cage. He'd kept Blaine in the cage for three days now, sliding in some newspaper when Blaine might need to do his business and sliding in a bowl of food and water every few hours while Blaine was awake. He'd explained it as 'training' and Blaine simply whimpered. He didn't even have it in him to fight anymore.

 

The idea that Kurt would cage him in order to further injure his legs and arms, further weaken him and dehumanize him... it hurt, but it didn't surprise Blaine at this point. He was sure his back wouldn't ever straighten like it should again, and he was also sure that was Kurt's intention. Blaine's scars had healed enough that Kurt was pleased with them, after having reopened the initials on the hip to get a better result once. Now he could be caged without needing the areas cleaned every day, so this training had begun. The only good thing Blaine could say was that the plug had been removed- to make bathroom use easier while in the cage, since Kurt refused to get him out and it would be too difficult to work the plug in and out of his body while trapped in the small area.

 

Kurt sketched as he spoke to Blaine, and the younger male silently wondered what his ex-love might be drawing. He knew Kurt worked for Vogue Dot Com- mostly submitting work and attending meetings online from home, luckily for the young fashion designer- because Kurt also designed. Blaine wasn't even sure what all Kurt was working on, or if he had applied for school somewhere, or what his future plans were. Even before the... incident happened, the pair hadn't talked as much as a couple should have. That had been part of what inclined Blaine to cheat in the first place.

 

"When things are taken away from you  _constantly_ , you kind of start to expect it, you know?" Kurt mused, pencil tapping his chin. "First my mother was taken, then I almost lost my father, too. My personal rights were taken from me when I was bullied so badly at McKinley, and then they were taken again when I enrolled at Dalton and had to... what were your words? Fit in?"

 

Blue eyes flashed with minor disgust before he continued. "The thing was, I still had some things that hadn't been taken away, so I started expecting a different outcome. The world, as a whole, doesn't care about Kurt Hummel. However, the two people in the world who actually mattered to me... they did care. And they didn't leave. They didn't get taken away," he shook his head, almost sadly.

 

"That was true until you cheated." The clipped tone left no room for argument or misinterpretation. Kurt was disappointed and still very upset with Blaine over the incident. He was... hurt. Blaine almost felt bad. He  _did_  feel bad. He had hurt this man who lost so much over the years. He'd broken something like hope that a hopeless boy had finally felt.

 

Kurt started sketching again as he continued his story. "You see, the thing is, I already  _had_  you. You were already  _mine_ , so I shouldn't lose you just because you didn't know how to handle something as simple as  _freedom_. So, I took you. I took what was mine, and now I will covet it." The man smirked to himself and Blaine swallowed bile. "Things that cannot function freely shouldn't be free at all, so here you are."

 

The days kept passing with Blaine trapped in that cage, and every single day held a new one-sided conversation from Kurt. Blaine had long ago learned not to answer, not to speak at all. He didn't want to be hurt anymore- so he stood silently on aching knees and bruised hands, listening to this broken man explain his life and his reasoning for the horrible things he'd done.

 

"I never did care much about other creatures. Never wanted a puppy or anything like that," his nose turned up at the very thought. "In fact, I think I'd rather use the fur in a clothing design than have such a beast in my home. Shedding on my clothes and spreading dirt and fleas... bleh. No, I never wanted a  _pet_. At least," he glanced at Blaine with a glint in his eye. "Not in the traditional sense."

 

As Kurt continued explaining how he didn't care for animals and how he hardly cared for humans, either, Blaine was conflicted. He felt disgusted but at the same time, he thought Kurt's disdain towards people was only natural after the hell he'd gone through in school and in his community. Small-town Ohio was not a good place to grow up gay, after all.

 

At night, Blaine prayed. He listened to Kurt softly snuffling in his sleep, and he raised his head as much as he could in the constricting confines of his cage, and the young, tortured boy prayed to whatever heavenly being might exist. He didn't know if God existed- in many ways highly doubted it, in fact. Kurt had always been a firm atheist, and Blaine felt like he was starting to understand that.

 

Living in this new hell, it felt as though God couldn't possibly exist. For what merciful God would allow any of His children to suffer as either of the men in the secluded New York loft had, and still were suffering? Every night brought Blaine closer to leaving everything he once believed behind.


	6. I Love You Though You Hurt Me So

When Blaine was finally allowed out of his cage, he was still locked up in at least one way. His cock hadn't been released since Kurt first placed the tiny cock cage around it, having cleaned it as well as possible with the device in place, an opening at the end for Blaine to easily relieve himself without making a mess all over. It was degrading and disheartening for the boy, but he had to be thankful for small positive notes, and getting out of the human-sized cage was definitely one of those.

 

"Stretch out now, pet. We don't want you turning into a statue..." Kurt's laugh was cruel and his lips pulled into a twisted grin as Blaine did as he was told, stretching out arms and legs and popping his back as much as he could, all while his body shook with soreness. "There's a good boy. So good, doing as you're told..."

 

A sick sense of pride curled in Blaine's gut at hearing Kurt's praise. He had done well. Kurt was happy with him. He felt good, and it disgusted him. All the same, Blaine couldn't stop himself from taking satisfaction from making his, well,  _master_  for lack of better term, happy. It would probably have been better to consider Kurt his crazy ex-boyfriend turned kidnapper, but Blaine just couldn't think that way anymore. Kurt had become so much  _more_. The New Yorker was everything to Blaine, now. He was Blaine's life.

 

"You know, I used to think my life would be so different at this point," Kurt mused, watching as Blaine slowly ate from a bowl on the floor. Blaine had to go slowly so as not to choke every time Kurt decided to play with his balls with the toe of his patent leather boot. "First, I thought I'd have a lot more friends. I always imagined, when I was young, that I would make friends. Even if I didn't particularly care for others, I still thought I'd have them just as anyone else did. Of course, I had the glee club, or so I thought, but..."

 

Kurt sighed and Blaine paused in his eating, looking up at the man he once so adored through heavy lashes. "It isn't like any of them really go out of their way to keep in touch, do they?" Kurt's sharp tone exposed a bit of the hurt he felt, and Blaine whimpered softly. "Hell, I thought Rachel and I were going to head to the city together!" It was like Kurt forgot Blaine was even there, but Blaine still knelt there, watching the man fall apart. "Of course, that would be asking too much of her, though. She made that clear as soon as she got into NYADA and I didn't."

 

The bitterness in his tone was heavy, making Blaine's heart hurt in sympathy. The world had really failed the beautiful monster before him. Maybe if things hadn't gone quite so bad for Kurt, maybe he wouldn't be the way he was. "If she'd wanted to live with me, I could have made it work. Could have done something with him instead... could have... but no. Of course not. Because who ever actually wanted Kurt Hummel?"

 

Blaine didn't know who Kurt was mumbling about or what, really, but with the final statement, which was bit out angrily and sharp enough for him to hear with ease, Blaine let out a sad yelp.

 

The voice Blaine hadn't used in so long finally broke out of his throat in a rough, desperate cry, as Blaine threw himself at the man who had been so mistreated by the entire universe. "I wanted you, Kurt! I  _still_  want you," he gasped, holding onto Kurt's ankles as much as he could.

 

It didn't matter that Kurt was more demonic entity than wounded man. In that moment, it didn't even matter that Kurt had done horrible things to Blaine, kidnapped him, brutalized his body and abused his mind. All that mattered was that Kurt was hurting. He was so  _alone_  and Blaine had to make him feel cared for. He had to show Kurt that someone loved him. Because Kurt Hummel had been desired. He'd been loved and wanted and more.

 

Kurt had to see that.

 

Sharp brows lifted as Kurt studied him, and Blaine felt his body begin to shake softly under the intense gaze. "Really, pet? You still feel for me, after all this?" The words were vague, but their meaning was clear. Kurt was acknowledging what he'd done, to some extent at least, and Blaine could either blame him for it, or accept it. He could take Kurt's actions as punishment for the pain he'd put the countertenor through, or he could lash out and never connect with the man-turned-monster who he had once so adored again.

 

It was really an easy decision for Blaine to make- much too easy for him to comfortably admit. He couldn't imagine a life without Kurt, and he couldn't convince himself to hate the man for things he now understood to be justified.

 

"Kurt..." Blaine looked up through damp lashes, eyes wide and pleading, heart shimmering in those expressive orbs. "I  _love_  you. I will  _always_  love you. And I am  _so sorry_."

 

Soft hands reached out and Kurt held Blaine's face, thumbing tears from his cheeks as the younger man sobbed and shook. "I know, pet. I know," he murmured, leaning in to lay a kiss on Blaine's forehead. "You'll stay with me forever, won't you? No more mistakes, no more of those horrible things with horrible  _other people_..." Kurt's voice took on a sharp tone, and his eyes got dark for a moment, but all the negative emotions cleared a moment later as Blaine whimpered and the pair locked eyes.

 

" _Mine_ ," Kurt hissed, standing and unfastening his pants in a fluid motion, swiftly making his way behind Blaine and pushing between the kneeling man's shoulders, urging him to present himself for his master. The plug, which hadn't been increased in size but was once more kept in place at all possible times, was swiftly removed, and Kurt replaced it with his cock with barely a moment in between.

 

Clamps pulled and twisted Blaine's nipples as his chest flexed, his whole body moving with the rapid pace Kurt fucked him with. His caged cock dribbled between his legs, but as much as it tried it couldn't get hard, couldn't explode in delight and dance in pleasure as it craved. Kurt assaulted Blaine's prostate, and all the captured boy could do was cry out, scream in joy and pain, pleasure and torture, as he was used.

 

Blaine sobbed as Kurt buried long fingers in dark curls, pulling Blaine's head back and sideways so that the pair could press their mouths together in the dirtiest kiss Blaine had ever experienced in his short life. "You are mine, Blaine Anderson.  _Mine_. You will  _never_  leave me.  _Never_  hurt me again. Ever," Kurt growled as he fucked into Blaine's body, using him and making him scream, his poor, trapped cock sputtering cloudy liquid as he tried and failed to find orgasm.

 

"Yours," Blaine panted through tears, head hanging, ass lifted for Kurt to fill as he finally reached climax. "Forever. I love you, Kurt. I love you. I'm sorry. I'm yours. I'm sorry. I love you..."

 

When he was finished, Kurt pulled out and plugged his release inside his pet. He cleaned both of them up, then carried Blaine to bed with him. It was a privilege to be allowed in bed, and Blaine actually felt safe and calm, cherished once more by the man who held him as he curled there under the covers with his torturer, his lover.

 

Blaine was beaten, bruised, fucked, and branded. And he was content with it all. Blaine's final thought before he fell asleep that night was that he didn't want to escape anymore, that Kurt had well and truly won, and that Blaine was okay with that.


	7. I've Lost My Light

"There, now, pet," Kurt said softly, unwrapping the tape from Blaine's ruined fingers. He finished the last one and Blaine stared at his mangled hand, unable to so much as twitch what once was a thumb, flexing his curled fingers side to side- the extent of his dexterity. "That's better."

 

Blaine didn't know what to think of his 'paws' or the way his back didn't function like a normal man's back should. He didn't know what to think of a lot of things, in all honesty. What he did know, was that he didn't care how twisted it was to love the man who ran long, pale fingers through his silky curls, scratching by his ears and making Blaine's eyes squint with pleasure. Blaine found that he rather liked the inner peace he was experiencing ever since that night when he'd professed his love to the man he'd once wronged. He wasn't about to let go of the euphoric feelings that love filled him with.

 

“I need to make a short trip back to Ohio this weekend, pet,” Kurt commented, bringing Blaine out of his haze. It wasn’t like Kurt never left him alone in the loft, but he’d never been gone overnight, and Blaine didn’t much look forward to his Master being gone for an extended period of time. He whined, and Kurt smiled slightly at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back as quickly as I can. I just have to make an appearance at a funeral.”

 

Tilting his head, Blaine set a ‘paw’ on Kurt’s knee and studied his amused expression thoughtfully. Who could have died that would have Kurt so entertained at the very thought? Surely, he’d be upset if his father had passed, and even Carole wasn’t so loathed by the sadistic man. Finn, perhaps, wasn’t loved, but…

 

“Have you figured it out yet, pet?” Kurt’s voice made shivers run along his spine, and Blaine’s lips quirked in a tiny grin at the feeling. “I have to show up as the devastated ex-boyfriend. You see, we didn’t _hate_ each other, after all. And I was so vigilant in my frequent calls home for information, my concern about my poor Blainey’s whereabouts. I was so convinced that he couldn’t possibly have done such a horrible thing as _killed himself_!”

 

Kurt’s lips curled into an evil sort of smile and Blaine shivered again, pressing himself close to Kurt, not making more sound than that of a small whimper or whine. “But after nearly a year, and with a suicide note and everything, it’s just silly to keep searching. It’s time to call it like it is. Of course, I’ll do my best acting at the actual function.” Kurt threw a hand over his forehead and cried out, “ _No! He’s not dead, he can’t be dead! Blaine would never, not_ my _Blaine!_ ” He laughed, digging his fingers into Blaine’s soft curls and scraping his scalp in a way that made Blaine sigh contentedly. “No one would ever suspect me of being anything but a mourning ex-lover.”

 

Kurt seemed to think about his next actions, and rather than heading for a suitcase and starting to pack, he focused solely on Blaine. The look in his eyes was hungry and predatory, and it made Blaine shiver with anticipation. He couldn’t imagine what might come next.

 

"Now you are completely and utterly  _mine_ ," Kurt purred, eyes alight with satisfaction and desire, which Blaine chose to interpret as love. "So, pet... perhaps you might like to meet my very first creation..?" Blaine's eyes widened as what appeared to be a bookshelf was actually pushed in a specific spot, a hinge releasing so that Kurt could pull the hidden door open and reveal a secret section of the loft that Blaine had no idea even existed. It was like some trope in a horror movie, but real life.

 

And there, staring out at him, barely recognizable for all the hell he'd obviously been through, was Sebastian Smythe.

 

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this very dark and twisted tale. I do have a prequel in the works that will tell Seb's story, so I hope you'll sub to the series so you get a notification when that's posted. I plan to hold back posting that until I have it complete and do it all in one go just like this one.
> 
> Feedback is fantastic, and I really do hope this goes over well. I know it's a different sort of fic than the norm for most people, but I really enjoyed writing it and developing it and the prequel as well.
> 
> Thank you again for reading! <3


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